


Leaning In

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, M/M, Nurses, cardiac arrest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-12
Updated: 2012-12-16
Packaged: 2017-11-21 00:02:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/591174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel never changed out his scrubs, Dean had a way of getting himself injured and Sam seemed to think it was a good pairing</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shockable rhythm

**Author's Note:**

> I chose not to use archive warning because they didn't really fit, but just in case- there are three arrest situations in this, it's not graphic/violence but I'd still like to say

Cas was fucking exhausted. He could feel the adrenaline turning his muscles to jelly. He kept his elbows locked and concentrated on counting.

 

Around him he could hear the anxious voices, the occasionally angry snap of one of his colleagues. Some were calm, some were all nerves.

 

He tried to put it from his mind, not his problem right then. He needed to concentrate as it became harder to keep a fast, strong rhythm. And count.

 

"28, 29, 30," he said aloud looking up to make sure the anaesthetist had heard him.

 

He had just enough time to reposition his hands where the heel of his top had rubbed the bottom red before relocking his elbows and starting again.

 

"Change at next call," someone said and he was grateful, he couldn't keep up the pace much longer.

 

He tried to steady his breathing. Long and deep, pushing down the urge to hyperventilate. He had to remain calm to keep his muscles working. They already felt like fire with the burn of anaerobic respiration and he needed all the oxygen he could get in.

 

Cas risked a glance to his left, to the monitor hooked up to the arrest pads. He knew it was next to useless while he was actively doing compressions but part of him still hoped. The line showed only a slight wave of background activity spiking occasionally from where he was pushing down on the guys chest. Nothing. He turned back to his hands the pain dull and aching where he was pushing one on top of the other.

 

The anaesthetist was leaning over the man’s head, tube in hand. Cas didn't let up, he knew the man was good enough to tube through the compressions.

 

It was done quickly, expertly and the tube blew up, tied in place and attached to the green bag. Somebody had forgot the oxygen and as Cas gave up counting he muttered through his harsh breathing.

 

Someone heard him, got it hooked up and then 2 minutes were called.

 

Cas fell back, shaking out his aching arms and running his fingers over the pain by his wrist.

 

"We've got shockable rhythm," the registrar announced and Cas got back further as the call went up. Immediately after the clear was given Rachel was there with compressions.

 

He almost staggered to the end of the bed, tightened the pressure bag where someone had set saline to run through a cannula in the guy’s foot. At this stage of an arrest any vein would do.

 

Then he got out completely checking through the resus trolley to make sure they still had plenty of kit left. All the while he shook, the exertion and adrenaline too much for his muscles.

 

He couldn't rest for long though, knowing that every person here was crucial and there was more to do. He set up the machine to check the guy’s blood sugar aware of what the man had taken to get him in this state.

 

"We need to get some glucose running," he said ripping open a bag. "Sugar’s 1.9."

 

"Shit," the registrar swore. "Bolus some 20%."

 

Cas was ahead of him.

 

"What the fuck did this guy take anyway?"

 

Cas shrugged as he ran his line through. "Not entirely sure. They found packs and packs of tablets at his house, some legal, some not. How much and of what he took is unknown."

 

Someone handed the reg the list and he swore low.

 

"Could be any or all of these things. Tox-screen run?"

 

"Yes, but he's only been here 2 hours, in the hospital for 5."

 

"Stomach pumped?"

 

"It looks likely it was staggered."

 

"Shit," the registrar swore again. They all knew they were up shit creek with this one.

 

Another doctor ran down, little white roll of paper in her hands, she handed it over. "He's hypoxic, acidotic, base excess is obscene."

 

More swearing, some hastily set up IVs and the reg shaking his head at Cas in silent knowledge. This was not looking good.

 

*

 

 

Sam Winchester was one of Castiel's favourite people.

 

Firstly because he was smart and kind and never let awkward silences get in the way of friendship. Secondly because he genuinely cared about his patients which was something Cas was beginning to doubt in the hardened world of acute psychiatry. Thirdly because he'd taken the news that Cas was bi so in his stride that he'd made Cas feel like an idiot for even bringing it up. Fourthly because he didn't get pissed when Cas snapped when he was having a bad day. Fifthly because he always brought Cas a small bag of jellybeans or fruit gums or if Cas was really lucky and Sam had stopped by the superstore off Weston the blue and pink cola bottles that Cas loved more than anything in the whole world.

 

Cas wanted nothing more than to hug the man as he looked into the bag and almost cried at the small joy and show of friendship.

 

"Four new ODs overnight I see," Sam said looking at his crumpled sheet. Sam could only have been in for an hour max and already his handover looked like it had been through the wash. "Any of them yours?"

 

"I was on last night," Cas told him the weariness of it hitting him like a steel bat to the knees. He collapsed into a chair at the nurses’ station and wondered if he'd ever be able to get up again or whether he should just sit there all day and wait for his next shift to begin.

 

"And you're still here why?"

 

"Because Mr Beckett - OD number three on your list - arrested."

 

"Holy shit," Sam breathed. It was so unlike the psych to swear that Cas raised his eyebrows. "It's just- I know him. He's been doing this for years, before you came to this hospital. Then he seemed to get over it, he got married, brought a house."

 

"Looks like he'd been stockpiling his antidepressants," Cas shrugged. Beckett had been run to ITU for ventilation and stabilisation. "And some other shit from the streets."

 

Sam shook his head. "I'll check up on him later," he promised. "You go get some sleep. You in tonight?"

 

"Yes," Cas groaned dragging himself from the uncomfortable chair.

 

"Tomorrow?"

 

"No, that's me done. Not sure I could take any more anyway."

 

"Just a bad night Cas."

 

"It's always a bad night."

 

He clapped his hand on Sam's shoulder to show he was ok and made his way to the staff room. Sam was waiting as he got out.

 

"Look I was going to ask if you wanted to go for a drink tomorrow. My brother's moving to town and I want to celebrate. He doesn't exactly know anybody up here so I'm getting a few people together. Come on Cas, it'll be fun and you need to wind down."

 

Cas shrugged noncommittally. "We'll see if my bed lets me go."

 

He left with a wave. The last thing he wanted to do was go out right then, he just wanted sleep. And blue and pink cola bottles.

 

*

 

Sam tapped him pen on the desk in front of Castiel.

 

"What?" Cas asked eventually.

 

"You bailed the other night."

 

"I overslept."

 

"Past 8 o'clock at night?"

 

"I slept for 16 hours straight." He'd woken at 2am groggy and the kind of exhausted you get after too much sleep. Wednesday night had killed him and Thursday night had fluttered past like some sort of dream. Now it was Sunday and he was back on days again in some sick twisted joke on his already fucked circadian rhythm.

 

"Dude you need to chill out a bit. You work too much."

 

Cas nodded. It was no secret he was working every hour god gave him. Nobody knew why though and Cas wanted to keep it that way, it would all lead to too many questions.

 

"I could say the same to you. Why are you here on a Sunday Sam?"

 

"My weekend on call. And I believe you have a Miss Canning for me."

 

Cas handed him the folder glad someone had come to see the hell bitch.

 

"Good luck," he smiled.

 

"Dean didn't show either on Friday," Sam said picking up their conversation from earlier as if he didn't have a patient to see.

 

"Your brother?"

 

"Says he got stuck in Nevada. He's stalling though I'm not sure why."

 

Cas settled back in his seat aware that Sam needed to talk. He wasn't sure what about him gave off the aura that he was willing to listen but apparently there was something as Sam wasn't the only person who used him as a confidant. It was part of why Cas had got into nursing in the first place.

 

He'd been a shy and quiet young man. He didn't particularly like speaking to people but for some reason he'd always put them at their ease without trying. People felt comfortable around him. He'd tried to shoo them away but they never took him seriously and always came back. It wasn't in Castiel's nature to be mean so he listened and he gave carefully picked advice, all the while wondering what he'd done to earn so much trust.

 

So he was a quiet and thorough nurse. His patients didn't mind that he didn't banter with them the same way others did. They always felt comfortable telling him their problems but they didn't moan to him as much as they did the others. Quiet and happy patients, quiet and happy Cas. It just seemed to work.

 

His assessors in college had been confused by his communication skills. Mainly that he didn't seem to have any and yet he somehow formed relationships with even the most difficult patients and staff. They'd passed him, but sometimes Cas wondered if it had been begrudgingly.

 

"Stalling about his job or something else?"

 

Cas did like Sam though, so he put aside his awkwardness at having to have the deep conversation and listened.

 

"He's always loved his job," Sam shrugged. "But we haven't really spoken in 7 years."

 

Cas remained silent, didn't push. It was a skill that had often gained him trust where others failed.

 

"There was an accident. Our father died. Sam shrugged, trying to belittle his emotion. "I told him it was good riddance."

 

Cas could hardly believe the kind and gentle Sam to say such, but he kept his surprise off his face and listened.

 

"I was angry, I didn't... But Dean always did idolise dad and he hated that I could see his flaws. To be honest it surprised me when he said he wanted to move closer."

 

"He's making an effort to reconnect with you Sam."

 

"I know. But then he doesn't show."

 

"He'll be there. I think he needs time. You both do. It's not going to be easy."

 

"Yeah I know. But I... I want my brother back."

 

Cas nodded. He doesn't try to belittle Sam by telling him it will all be ok. He knows there's very real danger there and so instead he takes a deep breath, "let me know if there's anything I can do Sam."

 

Sam lit up at his offer. "I think you'll really like him Cas. You remind me of him, in a way. Except he's loud and brash and isn't really a thing like you. Just that he was my best friend and he has that way you do, of making everything feel better."

 

Cas flushed. He'd always been bad at accepting praise, especially from his friends.

 

"Thank you Sam."

 

*

 

Which was how Cas ended up meeting Dean Winchester in the dark a few miles out of the city.

 

He pulled up in his mustang when he saw the gleam of his headlights reflected off chrome and black.

 

"Goddammit," the elder Winchester swore aiming a kick at the back tire of the Impala. He was covered in darkness, Cas's headlights aimed at the front of the car.

 

"Dean Winchester?"

 

"Yes? Who the fuck are you?"

 

Dean kicked the tire again and the jack shifted with a creek causing both men to back off.

 

His harsh tone surprised Cas. He'd expected Dean to be like Sam, calm and friendly. What he got was loud and angry.

 

"My name is Castiel. Sam sent me to pick you up."

 

Dean swore once more under his breath ducking down in the dark to lower the jack and let the impala down. Once it was out and there was no chance of the car falling on his head Cas breathed a sigh of relief. His first aid skills were top notch but he wasn't sure he'd be able to fix a crushed skull.

 

"Where is he? Can't even come get his own brother?"

 

"There was an emergency. Sam is on call tonight."

 

"Emergency? Fuck that. I'm his brother."

 

And although Cas knew he shouldn't, he had to defend Sam. "A woman tried to murder her two children by feeding them crushed up paracetamol mixed in with their milk. Sam's trying to get her committed and the children into state custody."

 

Dean shut up at that. Cas could almost make out the widening of his eyes in the dark.

 

"Shit."

 

"Yes. Shit," Cas said sternly. "So stop the temper tantrum and get in the car. I'll drop you off at his house and he will see you when he is finished."

 

Dean picked up the jack and the spare tire he hadn't been able to put on, dumping them in the trunk of the old car. He looked like he was going to come quietly until Cas opened the driver’s door of the mustang and light lit the two men.

 

For a moment Dean blinked in the sudden light. He was a tall, well-built man. Cas would have tagged him for a rugby player if the sport had been more prevalent in the US. He had the muscle for it. Sam was bigger, his muscle honed from the gym but Cas suspected Dean got his from hard work and tough sports.

 

He had dark hair that shone a burnished gold in the cab light, light freckled skin and a pink O of a mouth.

 

Cas stood in surprise for a moment. Rarely did he ever notice how physically attractive people were straight from the off. Usually it took a long friendship or someone grabbing his chin, pointing him the right way and saying "He's hot." Cas supposed it was because he always looked for something deeper in his relationships. He wanted to fall in love with someone because of who they were, not because of what they looked like.

 

Dean also had blood dripping from his hairline.

 

Cas darted forward, reaching for the man’s hair.

 

"Whoa Cas," Dean said as Cas bent him forward to get a better look. "Oh. I thought you were going to kiss me."

 

Cas grumbled as he got a good look at the cut. It was 2 inches long, the blood now matted in his hair. He must have been holding something to it for a while to stop the bleeding and contain the haematoma that surrounded the gash.

 

"This needs suturing and a compression bandage," Cas said all business. "I'll drive you to the hospital."

 

"Look man all I want to do is sleep."

 

Cas frowned and if Dean had any sense he knew he wouldn't be getting his own way.

 

Cas searched his pockets for a pen torch. "Look at me."

 

"Cas I'm fine."

 

"Do you have any medical training?"

 

"Well no."

 

"Then shut up and let me check you over."

 

It was rare for Castiel to ever be rude but Dean brought it out in him. The man was infuriating. Maybe because just looking at him made Cas feel hot and flustered. Especially since he'd been such a jerk.

 

His pupils were reactive and equal, blown in the dark but nothing unexpected. Dean had pretty hazel eyes threaded with green that grew brighter as his pupils constricted. He licked his lips.

 

Cas herded him into the car, made sure he did up his seatbelt and ignored his complaints.

 

Dean quieted after the first few minutes and set back to sulk. They were turning onto main street when he spoke again.

 

"So you're one of Sam's doctor friends?"

 

"No," Cas replied. He didn't want to engage in this conversation, he wanted to merely stitch Dean up and drop him home.

 

"Dude you're wearing scrubs."

 

"So I am."

 

It was something Cas had been doing for a while now. He'd been broke for so long he now lived in scrubs. He'd change after a hard day’s work into a new set. Castiel tried to keep his expenditure to an exact minimum, including utilities, food and clothing. He had to pay for his small apartment and the old car that had once been his fathers, but pretty much everything else was optional. New clothes were a luxury and he was comfortable in the well-worn scrubs.

 

Dean snorted in annoyance.

 

"So why else would you be wearing them?"

 

"I'm a nurse."

 

Dean shrugged, the answer deemed acceptable. Cas though was worried by the way he was rubbing his head. He pulled into the staff car park and came round to help Dean out.

 

"Headache?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"Any blurred vision?"

 

"No. I just feel a bit foggy."

 

Cas pulled out his pen torch again and Dean batted his hand away.

 

"Man I'm fine."

 

Cas resisted, smacking Dean's hand as he lifted the torch to look in his eyes. No change. Good.

 

Inside he booked Dean in and told them he could deal with the sutures and dressing if one of the doctors could just stick his head in briefly.

 

Dean fidgeted on the trolley, refusing to put his legs up and so Cas was forced to stand between his legs to examine the wound in the brighter light.

 

He tried to ignore how close he was to Dean.

 

"Sorry I'm not good at hospitals. Lot of bad memories... from when dad died."

 

Cas merely nodded as he prepared his things. He had to be steady to do this and it would be much easier if Dean was lying down. Instead he made Dean move back so his back was at least stable against the wall and Cas could lean his hips on the edge of the trolley between Dean's legs.

 

The swelling had gone a little with Dean keeping a compress on it. Examining the laceration again Cas decided it couldn't be held with paper stitches and started to pull on his sterile gloves.

 

"You ok with needles?"

 

"I've sewn myself up before," Dean grinned and Cas frowned at him.

 

"That's a bad idea for so many reasons."

 

Dean lifted his sleeve, his grin growing impossibly wider. There was a nasty scar on his deltoid running in perfect line with the bottom edge of the muscle.

 

"How did that happen?"

 

Dean shrugged and Cas noticed the interesting things it did to the heavy muscles strung across his shoulders and chest. Damn but he could hate himself right then.

 

"Stay still," he told the man and started cleaning the wound.

 

"We were staying at my dad’s friend’s house and me and Sam went exploring his junk yard. I fell and got caught on some metal. I was 15 and didn't want to tell my dad so I broke into Bobby's supplies and fixed it up myself."

 

Cas raised an eyebrow as he worked.

 

"That's not the end of the story."

 

"Na. It got infected and gross. Wound popped with all this yellow puss. Dad found out. He was pissed. It got into my blood and I was in hospital for weeks."

 

Cas nodded, he'd guessed something like that.

 

"All this sterile equipment isn't just for show," he told the man with a half-smile.

 

Dean was silent as he sutured the laceration. It took seven tiny and precise sutures to close. Cas was proud of his work, it was neat and tiny and would give the wound the best chance of not scarring. He slapped on some gauze and because, although he was a good person, he wasn't perfect he wound crepe bandage around Dean's head a few times, under his chin and then around again and again.

 

Dean looked horrified by the dressing but he allowed Cas to do as he would.

 

All in all Dean looked a mess. The doctor arrived a few minutes later, poked his head through the charted vitals, neurological examination and shrugged.

 

"Mild pain killers and rest. You got someone to keep an eye on you for the night?"

 

Cas groaned thinking of how Sam was the only one Dean knew here and how he'd be busy for most of the night.

 

"Um not really," Dean said sounding sheepish.

 

The doctor looked pointedly at Cas. "I don't want to have to admit you Mr Winchester but it's unsafe to spend the night alone."

 

"He can stay with me," Cas sighed giving in.

 

"Cas, man, I..."

 

Cas raised a hand as he tidied up. "You want to stay here for the night?"

 

Dean shut up. "No, not really."

 

"Then come on."

 

Dean went to the main desk to sort out his insurance as Jess came up and bounced next to Cas's shoulder.

 

"Hey you! What are you doing in my neck of the woods?"

 

Working in the ER often Jess would have to bring a patient to admissions but Cas rarely made the trip back unless he was on the scrounge for something they'd ran out of on the unit.

 

"A friend hit his head."

 

"Friend huh? That him? He's hot, like really hot."

 

"I thought you were into his brother?" Cas asked and Jess went pink. It always surprised Cas how she held back her feelings for the other Winchester. They got on well, all sweet flirtation and shy smiles. Jess had steadfastly refused to let him set them up though which was a shame in Castiel's eyes.

 

"I do. I mean I don't. I mean- Cas! Sam's sweet and handsome and..."

 

"Single," Cas reminded her gently.

 

"Yes but he's also... I couldn't, I'd turn beet red and probably pass out."

 

"Then let me."

 

"No! Anyway this is about your new friend. I saw you looking. Is he gay?"

 

Cas honestly had no idea. He had a total lack of anything resembling a gaydar. "I was not looking," he settled on.

 

Jess bounced again, grin wide and beautiful. "Cas! I love you but you've got to get a clue. So?"

 

"I don't know," Cas tried hoping it would quiet her. "I only met him an hour ago."

 

Jess gave him a long look at that. "An hour?"

 

"Sam called to say that Dean had broken down and he couldn't pick him up because he'd had a big case come in so I picked Cas up."

 

"I didn't realise you and Sam were such good friends."

 

"I didn't either," Cas shrugged. He supposed it was an extension of people confiding in him.

 

Jess suddenly beamed again. "Oh I get it!" But she'd say no more as Dean came over.

 

"Jess this is Dean, Sam's brother. Dean this is Jess, she works here."

 

"Oh," Dean grinned getting a good look at the pretty nurse. "You're the one he's always going on about."

 

Jess blushed a deep pink and Cas shook his head. He turned Dean round and pushed him towards the exit. "I'll see you soon Jess," he called back.


	2. Asystole

They could have gone back to Sam's but Cas lived closer and he knew he had a long night ahead of him.

 

He let Dean into his tiny flat. It was old but meticulously clean. The couch a ratty green and the floors 70's brown.

 

"I thought nurses got paid better than this," Dean said dropping down onto the couch before shifting in discomfort as he felt just how broken it was.

 

"I'm secretly a millionaire," Cas told him rooting through the fridge for something to eat. He hadn't got much left, enough for pasta and cheese that was all. "Are you hungry?"

 

Dean frowned. "No," he said as if confused by himself. "I just want to sleep."

 

"You have a mild concussion. I'll have to wake you up every now and then throughout the night."

 

Dean groaned. "I just want sleep."

 

"If you want to live to see the morning then you won't bitch when I wake you."

 

Dean agreed with a huff.

 

"So you got a TV?"

 

"No."

 

"Dude you're weird."

 

Cas shrugged. It wasn't like he had time for TV anyway, not that he could afford one. "You were going to sleep remember?"

 

"Yeah, um, you got a spare bed or is it the couch for the night?"

 

Cas threw the ingredients for his dinner onto the small work surface. "You can have the bed."

 

"Na man I don't want to..."

 

"It's quite alright. I won't be sleeping much anyway."

 

Dean stood and Cas showed him to his bedroom. Like everything in his apartment it was small, neat, old with barely any clutter. Dean fell immediately onto the used sheets and Cas supposed he didn't care if they were changed or not.

 

"Do I have to sleep all night in this head thing?"

 

"Yes."

 

*

 

Dean was a grumpy sleeper and Cas had to fight him awake every time he visited in the night. By morning they were both fed up and tired, but Dean was still fine and so Cas took it as a win.

 

They sat and drunk instant coffee at the breakfast bar that split Castiel's kitchen from his lounge. It was early and both of them were feeling rough.

 

"Look how about we go out and get some real stuff," Dean said after a few sips. "This is doing nothing for me."

 

Cas didn't want to tell the man he couldn't because he didn't even want to waste the price of a cup of coffee so he levelled his best scowl at Dean.

 

"My treat. As a thanks and all."

 

Cas sighed and gave up. He was a rare coffee drinker because the stuff was extortionate but he loved the bitter drink almost as much as he loved expensive teas and anything sweet.

 

"Very well."

 

"One question though, do you ever change out of those scrubs?"

 

"They're clean I assure you."

 

"Not my point man."

 

Cas just shrugged and got his shoes.

 

Sam called when they'd reached the coffee shop. "Cas have you seen Dean?"

 

"Yes, he's here."

 

"Oh thank god. He's not answering his phone. I didn't want to call you too early but I was worried after last night."

 

Dean reached for the phone and Cas batted his hand away. "He left all his things in his car."

 

"Typical Dean. He stay with you?"

 

Cas wasn't sure how to tell Sam about Dean's accident. Dean was snatching for the phone again so he handed it over listening quietly as Dean told Sam about the night before.

 

"Dean!" Cas could hear Sam's shout across the table. "You didn't say! You hit your head! You could have passed out by the side of the road!"

 

"Eh you have things to do," Dean shrugged. "And Cas was there."

 

"Put him on."

 

Dean smiled apologetically as Cas took the phone. "Sam?"

 

"I want you to punch my dumbass brother in the nose for me right now. Don't hold back, hit him hard."

 

"Sam he's fine."

 

"He's an idiot."

 

Cas couldn't disagree with that. Especially when said idiot was grinning at him stupidly across the table.

 

Cas said goodbye, promised to meet Sam with Dean later and hung up.

 

"He says to punch you."

 

Dean opened his arms wide. "Lay it on me." He still hadn't taken the ridiculous head bandage off, his hair sticking up at stupid angles. Cas took pity on the man then, reaching across to undo the bandage. Dean leant forward a bit but then laughed to himself.

 

"What?"

 

"Nothing man, it's nothing."

 

"I'm not going to hurt you."

 

"It wasn't that. Believe me it wasn't." Dean gave a deep, self-conscious blow from puffed cheeks and pursed cheeks. "How's it look?"

 

Truthfully, a mess. Dean's hair was crusted with blood. The sutures were small and neat but they were still obvious and the cut jagged and puffy. The haematoma had dispersed overnight under the compression so at least Dean didn't have an egg on his head but it had left a dark purple bruise that covered the top right of his forehead.

 

"Like you were in a car accident."

 

"Just the look I was going for."

 

"Perhaps we shouldn't have done this in a cafe."

 

"Na man it's cool, that bandage was killing me. Itchy." To prove it he ran his hands over the back of his head, worsening his already messy hair. The movement stretched his broad chest and Cas caught himself staring yet again. He wasn't sure what it was about this man but he kept forgetting himself. "I look ridiculous either way so..." He shrugged and grinned, eyes sparkling in the artificial light.

 

He did look ridiculous, eyes tired, hair a state, clothes rumpled. Cas though was still staring. He was still enthralled by the way Dean's tongue came out to lick the rim of his coffee mug.

 

"Yes," Cas attempted to cover himself, shaking his head to get the images out of his mind. He did not need to be thinking about the pink of Dean's tongue then.

 

When he looked back Dean was still rubbing at his hair. "Remind me never to ask you when I need to be lied to."

 

Cas frowned which caused Dean to laugh.

 

"Wow, over honest. Could you even lie to me Cas?"

 

Dean looked self-satisfied, like he'd just worked something important out.

 

"Yes."

 

Dean laughs all the more. "See. You couldn't even lie about that."

 

"Doesn't that make it a lie?"

 

"There's the possibility. So you didn't lie."

 

Cas sighed which Dean found way too amusing.

 

"Just finish your coffee then we'll ring a tow company about your car."

 

Dean's face fell. "Oh shit my baby!" He almost dropped his coffee mug. "I forgot about her. How could I forget my girl?"

 

Cas wasn't sure what to say. This was all an overreaction in his mind but Dean didn't seem to be playing around.

 

"And I'm not calling a tow company. I can fix her up now I've got some light. Probably could have done it last night if we'd angled your lights properly, but there was the whole head injury thing..."

 

"And it was not safe for you to be working with heavy machinery whilst there was the possibility of a concussion."

 

"Yeah whatever Cas, but she's been out alone in the middle of nowhere by herself all night." He stilled and averted his eyes. Cas wondered why he was suddenly shy. He hadn't pegged Dean Winchester as one to ever worry about anything. "I'll call a cab out there and fix her up. We've still got a few hours before meeting Sam."

 

Cas wasn't sure why he did it, he didn't really have the money for extra gas and he was exhausted to his bones but he shrugged to himself and offered Dean a lift.

 

"Na man, it's cool. You've already done too much for me."

 

"It's no problem. I would like to... make sure you don't injure yourself."

 

"Gees thanks for the vote of confidence Cas."

 

"You almost got crushed last night by that car."

 

Dean huffed but didn't argue.

 

*

 

Dean didn't get crushed by the car.

 

In the daylight he was a quick and sure mechanic, finding where the tire nut had gotten stuck and removing it with a few tough smacks of his mallet.

 

Cas just watched not really understanding why Dean took so long to just change a tire. He had gotten distracted underneath and Cas guessed he was checking over the rest of his car.

 

It didn't bother Cas though, in fact it gave him more of a chance to check Dean out. He'd be lying to himself if he said he wasn't entirely too distracted by the way Dean's top rode up to expose the line of his hips. Cas let himself watch. As long as he was honest with himself and accepted it could go no further than quick peeks while Dean was otherwise occupied then he was content.

 

"Cas you got the wrench out there?"

 

"No. I have none of your tools Dean."

 

The Winchester slid out from under the car awkwardly, highway dust covering his black t-shirt.

 

He gave Cas a disbelieving look before pointed to the tools laid out beside the car.

 

"Oh," Cas suddenly understood. Dean wanted him to hand him the wrench. He stood and bent to look at the variety of metal. "Which one?"

 

Dean just sighed and reached over to pick it up himself now he was no longer under the car anyway.

 

"Cars aren't my thing," Cas explained feeling a little embarrassed.

 

Dean grunted as he slid back under the way, wiggling his hips and shoulders. Cas resolutely bit down on the thoughts that flooded his mind. Dean Winchester was a jerk he reminded himself. He'd shouted when they first met, been grumpy all through the night and had just grunted when Cas hadn't known which wrench he'd wanted.

 

Except he'd also apologised. And had a head injury. And brought Cas coffee.

 

Cas decided it was too early to make up his mind on the strange man.

 

When Dean emerged again he busied himself letting the car down and clearing away his tools. Cas continued to watch him but he couldn't shake the feeling that Dean was annoyed. It made Cas angry in turn, the feeling unusual and tight in his chest.

 

He got tired, he snapped at people because he was having a hard day, but he rarely got angry. Rarely did anyone push him to such feeling.

 

Dean Winchester had a knack.

 

"Do you still require for me to come and meet Sam with you?" Cas asked frostily.

 

Dean looked up surprised.

 

"I, um, I don't need you to, but... Sam's your friend right?"

 

"I find I am exhausted."

 

Dean tried an obviously forced smile. After getting to know his usual honest and open grins it looked all the more fake. "You and me both."

 

Cas clenched his jaw. He wanted to stay angry.

 

"You should get some rest yourself."

 

"Are you going to wake me up every 5 minutes if I do?"

 

It was a tease but Cas was not in the mood to pick up those little social cues that so easily eluded him.

 

"No Dean. I am going to go get some sleep myself."

 

He turned, but felt a hand slide around his wrist immediately.

 

"You ok?"

 

And because Cas couldn't lie he shook his head. "Please give Sam my apologies."

 

Dean finally let go of him. There was a broken look in his eyes but Cas ignored it. "Sure man. And thanks. For everything. I'll see you round."

 

Cas didn't say yes.

 

*

 

Cas was getting used to the pen tapping.

 

"Yes Sam?"

 

"Dean said to thank you for looking out for him the other night."

 

"He already thanked me himself."

 

"Yeah I know but..."

 

Cas looked up at his sort of friend and waited. Sam looked like he was wrestling with himself, unsure of what to say or how he wanted to say it.

 

"Out with it."

 

Sam glared at him. He had a way of it when he put his mind to it.

 

"What... what exactly... happened? Between you and Dean? I mean I haven't seen my brother in seven years but I think..." Sam let off, embarrassment flooding his features.

 

Cas though didn't understand. "Happened? Well I picked him up, he shouted at me because I wasn't you so I set him straight as to your job being important and that you'd made arrangements. He calmed and I took him to the ER, sutured his wound and applied a dressing. The doctor cleared him to leave if he had somebody to stay with and since you would be busy all night I agreed to let him stay at mine. He was angered I kept waking him up but he survived the night so should be thankful."

 

He glanced at Sam then and saw the psychiatrist's mouth was open.

 

"What?"

 

"Nothing, go on."

 

"We went out for coffee, because I only have instant in my apartment. Then I reminded Dean about his car so we went to fix it, or more rightly Dean fixed it and I watched. Whereupon I got tired and decided to go home since Dean had transport of his own."

 

 

It wasn't a lie. He'd missed the part where he'd become angry at Dean for no reason but he was blaming that on his tiredness.

 

"That's all?"

 

Cas gave Sam a curious look not understanding where the younger Winchester was going with the conversation.

 

"Explain Sam, please."

 

"I just... You know what, never mind. Dean's weird. We probably just need to get used to each other again."

 

"That seems likely."

 

Sam leant forward over the lip of the raised section of the desk to where Cas was writing below. "Will you come out for drinks tonight? I was going to meet Dean when I finished but I could hang around till your shift is done."

 

And because it was Sam Cas couldn't find a reason to not go.

 

He finished his shift to find Sam by his car waiting. "Dean was going to pick me up, but I told him I'd meet him at the bar," he explained.

 

"That makes sense," Castiel answered getting in and unlocking the passenger door.

 

"You know Dean's an awesome mechanic on the side," Sam said looking around the old interior of the mustang. "He could probably fix your car up for you if you wanted."

 

Cas thought of how much it would cost to get the old thing running smoothly again and almost choked up at how beyond him it was. He loved the car. The old, stupidly expensive and broken car. It was the one thing his dad had given him. All he'd left Cas with was bad memories, worse debt and a '67 mustang.

 

"No thank you."

 

"Dude it could be spectacular. I think Dean would pay you to let him work on this car."

 

"I would charge him $5 hour."

 

"I'll run it by him later. But seriously, I never had you pegged for a muscle car kinda guy."

 

"It was my fathers."

 

"Oh, yeah? Dean's Impala used to belong to our dad. Before he died. I think that's why Dean's so attached."

 

Cas gripped the wheel. The leather was cracked and shiny from the years of hands that had gripped it.

 

"I... cannot sell this car, though it is a significant burden. I do not believe I had the same relationship with my father as Dean did with his, but this car was the one thing he gave me worth having."

 

He didn't want to say any more. He didn't want to tell Sam how the car was the one thing that he'd managed to get from his father, the one thing that wasn't detrimental to his life. He held it with both hands and refused to let go because it was the trophy of his abusive childhood, his prize for surviving. In the battle between his him and his father just living to get out was a win. The mustang was a symbol of that.

 

Sam sensed the turmoil within Cas and said no more. Either that or he saw the way Cas's hands were so tight on the wheel his knuckles had gone white, the way he clenched his jaw.

 

They pulled into the parking lot of the Roadhouse and Sam lead Cas inside.

 

Dean was already sitting at the bar nursing a pint. Cas had to stop and regain himself. Dean was wearing a thin grey tee that showed every muscle in his back as plain as if he were naked. There was a smudge of oil just under his right ear from where he'd been fixing his car again and had rubbed his neck.

 

He took the second, before moving to sit the other side of Sam.

 

"Good evening Dean."

 

"Hey Cas."

 

It was awkward and Cas had no idea why. Sam was always so at ease but with Dean he was overly careful and trying to impress. Dean wasn't sure how to react to Sam. Cas could see he wanted to tease, wanted to just act like they were brothers and that the past seven years hadn't happened. Cas was the stranger and the last time he'd seen Dean hadn't exactly ended perfectly. That and he was wound up like a jack in the box with the tension he was feeling because of his overt attraction to the new man.

 

Alcohol loosened the bothers with a few well-placed prompts from Cas. They began to banter, call each other names and attempt to embarrass each other. Cas could see this was a good thing, this was how the brothers interacted.

 

A less good thing was how Dean had placed a jack and coke in front of Cas and practically ordered him to drink it. He let Cas order something slightly easier to palate the next time, but had ignored Cas when he said he needed to drive home.

 

"Cab," was Dean's grinning reply. "We'll drop you off on the way since Sammy has to live a thousand miles from anywhere."

 

"I don't live 1000 miles from anywhere. I live in a nice neighbourhood."

 

"You have a fucking little white picket fence," Dean laughed almost spilling his pint on Castiel's scrub trousers. He apologised quickly, wiping the non-existent patch on Cas's knee. Cas let him, biting his cheeks against the feeling of strong warm fingers.

 

"Though I guess it could be worse." Dean levelled a look in Castiel's direction.

 

Cas glared back at him.

 

"Cas has vinyl flooring."

 

"It's rented," Cas said trying to be nonchalant.

 

"Not an excuse. Your landlord sucks."

 

"That's why the rent is so cheap."

 

Cas looked down, realising Dean still hadn't removed his hand from his knee.

 

"Which reminds me," Sam broke in and Dean pulled back to engage his brother. "Cas has a mustang in need of some serious work. He said he'd let you fix it up."

 

Cas sighed and wished things were different. “I can't afford that sort of expenditure."

 

Dean frowned for a moment before shrugging it off and focussing on the most important thing to him. "It's tempting," he mused. "That car could be something special. Put it all fixed up next to my baby and I might just pass out of awesomeness."

 

Cas shook his head. "But really Dean, no. I couldn't afford even the parts."

 

"I'll see what I can find, call in a few favours."

 

"Dean..."

 

"Cas," Dean bit back holding the man’s eyes with a heavy stare. "She deserves it."

 

Cas suddenly became aware of how Dean was leaning in closer and Sam had disappeared. He was alone, with a drunk and open Dean Winchester. The more the man spoke the more Cas was convinced he was a jerk, until he did something like this.

 

"Maybe I should just sell it to someone who can take proper care of it."

 

"No! No! Cas we're gonna make her beautiful. You won't even recognise her when we're done."

 

And for a moment Cas let himself believe.

 

"Dean it's getting late. We should push off. I've got work tomorrow." Sam had appeared at Castiel's shoulder and was yawning widely.

 

"Why don't you push off. Me and Cas were having more fun without you anyway," Dean joked.

 

Cas felt his cheeks heat. "No, I think I should be leaving as well."

 

He followed Sam out to get a cab, Dean moodily dragging his feet after them.

 

"Sorry the sasquatch cut the night short," Dean smiled as they pulled up at Cas's apartment. Sam was almost asleep in the front seat. "We'll catch up soon yeah?"

 

*

 

It was typical that when Dean did catch up he was in the sluice cleaning shit off a commode, plastic apron hanging off his neck.

 

"You know I always had a thing for the whole hot-nurse gettup. Now..."

 

Cas glared at him from where he was aware the wipe in his hand wasn't clean. He had a sudden urge to fling it at Dean and his movie star grin.

 

"Scrubs?" Dean shrugged. "Not as hot as those little white dresses."

 

"Dean that was not nursing attire, that was a carry on film."

 

Dean laughed as Cas finished fitting the commode back together and stripped the apron and gloves. He shoved past with his elbows to get to the sink.

 

"Might be something to be said for scrubs though," Dean almost whispered and Cas almost gave himself whiplash turning to try and glean exactly what Dean had meant. Dean was looking at him, face blank but there was nothing there to confirm or deny Castiel's thoughts.

 

"Meaning?"

 

"More comfortable," Dean said lamely and Cas wondered if he was covering himself. Dean would have made a joke, he always did, it was almost pathological with the man. Maybe he had made a joke and Cas just wasn't getting it. It was likely. Cas felt his cheeks pink.

 

"Yes they are," he replied needing to say something, anything. "What are you doing here?"

 

"Came to pick up Sam but he's running late - again." Dean shrugged off his annoyance, trying to act like it didn't bother him. "Thought I'd come say hi."

 

Cas was unsure exactly why Dean felt the need to say hi. They didn't know each other that well, but he supposed he was the only people Dean did know in the city other than Sam.

 

"Hello," Cas said politely. He didn't want to be rude to the man, but he was still confused and annoyed by his reaction to Dean. Part of him wanted to push Dean out the door and tell him never to come back. The other part... He quashed the thought before he got mental images that would disrupt his work all night long.

 

"Do you fancy a coffee? My treat."

 

"I'm working Dean."

 

"Yeah I know, but, do you get a break?"

 

Cas sighed at himself for even considering it. Yes, he did have a break coming up. It was a little early but everyone was settled and safe. He wasn't sure he wanted to waste what little down time he got at night with Dean, but at the same time he just absolutely did.

 

"Give me a minute to tell the others."

 

When he'd done his ears were burning and there were five grinning nurses and auxiliaries watching him leave with Dean.

 

"I have half an hour," he told Dean strictly.

 

"Cool. The restaurant still open?"

 

"Yes."

 

He was aware he was being blunt but the only other option was to curl himself around Dean like a cat. He chastised himself for being so deluded. Dean had shown no interest in him past friendship. He was also arrogant, rude and they argued constantly. No way were they ever going to be more than overly hostile acquaintances. Cas did not date assholes.

 

Dean brought them two black coffees and watched as Cas poured sugar after sugar into his. "You're kidding me right?"

 

Cas didn't look happy, but he continued to pour in more sugar.

 

"Four? Five?"

 

"We all have our vices."

 

"Yours being diabetes?" Still Dean rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a bag of Fruittella. He pushed them across to Cas who couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. "Man you're so easy. I'll have to remember this."

 

"Sam already uses my sweet tooth against me," Cas griped as he pulled the wrapper off one of the fruit sweets.

 

"Well it's not like you have any other faults," Dean said flippantly. It made Cas's heart stop, the ease of the compliment. He stayed deathly still as he wondered whether Dean had realised what he'd said.

 

Dean took a sweet and picked at the wrapping without actually peeling it off. Slowly a blush came to his cheeks before he rather clunkily changed the subject.

 

"I'm not an idiot, you know? I know I've come across as a total jackass since I met you but that's not me. I'm an alright guy really. I just... this whole moving thing. And Sammy being different but still Sammy. I don't know what to do with him. He's my brother but he's acting like I'll blow a top if he says the wrong thing. And then there's you... I don't know how to act around you. I feel like I'm getting everything wrong."

 

Cas let Dean finish, till the man wound down and seemed to slump. It was a big speech for Dean. Cas guessed he didn't usually say such blatantly emotional things.

 

"I understand," Cas begun. "Moving is difficult, but you have a reason to make it work and get to know the area. Time Dean, give it time. Sam is scared that you've grown apart. He wants this to work out as much as you do. I think you made big progress in the bar last night."

 

"Yeah?"

 

"I do. He loves you a lot Dean. It will take time but I think if you persevere then you will be ok. As for you being a jackass I am withholding judgement for now. You have had your reasons."

 

"And what about you?"

 

"Me? Nobody really knows how to act around me. Do not think you are alone in that Dean. For some reason people like me, but I have few friends because I am awkward to be around and do not know how to react in social situations, such as this. People get "weirded out" by me pretty quickly when they know me better than an acquaintance or colleague."

 

"I'm not "weirded out"."

 

"Give it time."

 

"I will."

 

Coffee finished Cas realised their stilted and difficult conversation had actually taken longer than he'd thought.

 

"I must return to work."

 

Dean cleared away the mugs and followed Cas out.

 

"So you'll come out with me and Sam again? It'd be cool and I need to get your properly drunk this time."

 

Cas groaned. "No Dean. I do not do drunk."

 

They both stopped as they heard a thump behind them. Cas ran when he saw the body lying on the hard floor a few doors down, Dean hot on his heels.

 

The man was laid on his back, eyes closed. Castiel tried to keep himself calm as he checked to see if the man was breathing, placing his fingers to his neck at the same time.

 

"Dean," he said with all the force and assurance of knowing how easily people fell apart in these situations. He spoke as he tipped the man’s head back, checked his airway, nothing. "Run and get me the defibrillator, the red box on the wall outside the restaurant. Then go back to the red phone and call 2222, cardiac arrest level 2, area J. Go now."

 

He had already moved to the man’s chest, ripped open his shirt to begin compressions. Hard and fast, locking his elbows and linking his hands together. Dean was back almost instantly, Cas grateful for the facemask that was kept with the defib. He fitted it over the man’s mouth, head tilted back, tight seal. Two breaths, don't overinflate the lungs. He ripped open the box and fitted the sticky pads, watching as the screen cycled through its analysis. Nothing, back to compressions.

 

Dean was back within a minute. "What can I do?"

 

"Mask," Cas huffed. He was getting nothing from the man. He counted out his last three compressions hoping Dean knew it to be his cue.

 

The Winchester fumbled with the mask as he tried to fit it, Cas had to help him fit his hands, get the tilt so the man’s airway was open.

 

"Not too hard."

 

The breaths were good, into the lungs not the stomach and Cas got back to compressions.

 

It was another two rounds until the machine spoke up, telling them both to back off so it could analyse the man’s rhythm.

 

"Cas?" Dean asked his voice shaking.

 

"You're doing well Dean," he promised as the machine confirmed to keep going.

 

"Help's coming," Dean told him, trying to return the comfort.

 

"I know." Cas hated the feeling in his arms, the pressure on the back of his hand but he refused to give up or slow down.

 

"Let me take over," Dean said positioning himself opposite. Cas agreed with a nod, arms shaking as he ended his cycle and moved to the mask.

 

Dean had good positioning, Cas coached him through the compressions, it was always easier when there was someone to let you know if you were slowing down or not using enough force.

 

Then the godsend of footsteps running crept into earshot and Cas almost sagged in relief.

 

"Here come the cavalry," Dean grinned as he huffed.

 

He continued as the team arrived and Cas explained the situation. Then he stood back, bringing Dean with him.

 

Dean was shaking, hands trembling and so he shook out his arms and took deep breaths.

 

"That was... interesting."

 

"You did very well."

 

"Ha. Just remind me to take you out to a coffee house next time instead."

 

They stood back and watched as the team continued compressions, got lines in and took off bloods. IV's were squeezed in by hand, adrenaline given.

 

Dean nudged Cas and pointed so Cas explained the I-gel airway being inserted. He explained the fluids going in, the results on the blood gas that somehow ended up in his hand after the team had finished with it. Dean listened silently through it all, occasionally probing for more information.

 

It wasn't to be though and Dean gripped Castiel's wrist tightly as the registrar stepped back and shook his head, asking the team if they were all in agreement.

 

Cas pulled Dean away then.

 

"But why?"

 

"Dean he was dead."

 

"But they could have..."

 

"Not they couldn't have. Sometimes, a lot of the time, we can't."

 

Dean bit down on his cheeks hard and refused to look at Cas. The nurse gently pulled him away, stroking a hand over his shoulder.

 

"Dean?"

 

"See why I didn't become a doctor like Sammy, or a nurse like you."

 

"It's not all like this Dean."

 

He said his name again, trying to bring Dean back to him. The man was deeply caring, warm but brash. Cas was beginning to understand Dean Winchester better.

 

"How can you stand it?"

 

"Because yes sometimes we lose. Many times though we win. Dean look at me." He pulled Dean round, holding both his hands. "Dean."

 

"Yeah Cas. I get it. I just... I wish we could have saved him."

 

"We gave him a chance."

 

"Maybe if I'd had been trained..."

 

"No. Do not put this on yourself. You did perfectly."

 

He moved a hand to grasp the collar at Dean's shoulder, pulling him in so he couldn't look away.

 

Dean's eyes opened wide and he made a small gasp.

 

"Dean?"

 

"It's just every time you lean in I think you're going to kiss me and I'm always sort of disappointed when you don't."

 

Cas let go then, his hand slipped away and Dean stepped back embarrassed.

 

"Anyway, your break finished half hour ago. You should get back to work."

 

He grinned wide and false, disappearing with a breezy merriment that showed more of his discomfort than running away scared ever could have.


	3. Fibrillation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this took so long, the file on my computer was completely messed up. That and Christmas meant it took forever. Thanks for sticking with me, enjoy!
> 
> Edit: Again so sorry for the formatting mistakes, I fixed them but then the file on Ao3 didn't update. All fixed now! Let me know if you find any mistakes though I'm pretty sure I got them all

 

"Ok this time I know something happened."

 

Sam didn't even say hello. He had come round the desk from his customary standing position and sat beside Cas.

 

"I don't want to speak of it right now. I'm working."

 

"Cas, come on. Dean's been sulking all week. And I'm pretty sure you've been avoiding me."

 

"My patients have been very demanding."

 

Sam flicked his eyes at the board. It was a surprisingly quiet night. Quiet nights always were. They didn't happen often.

 

"Spill."

 

"What did Dean tell you?"

 

"Nothing. He said he met you for coffee and that was it. Hell Cas he looked like he'd been punched in the gut."

 

Cas rubbed his head. He should have called Dean, made sure he was alright. It was just such a new, strange idea, having a friend.

 

"A man died outside the restaurant."

 

"What?"

 

"Dean and I found him. We attempted resuscitation but the man died. I think Dean is upset about it."

 

Sam was silent for a long time. When Cas looked over his mouth was open.

 

"It's just... I kinda thought... maybe you and he... you know?"

 

Cas didn't know. He never knew what people meant when they said things like that.

 

"Please enlighten me Sam."

 

"Na man, it doesn't work like that. You're both as clueless as each other. You could call him though, I think he'd appreciate it."

 

Sam had the unit phone out of its cradle before Cas could object. Dialling quick he shoved it into Castiel's hands and disappeared.

 

"Hello?"

 

"Dean? It's Cas."

 

"Oh hey..." Dean's voice trailed off. Cas thought there'd been excitement at first but now he wasn't so sure. "You ok?"

 

"I'm working."

 

"So why the call?"

 

Cas didn't have a good answer. He twirled the phone cable around his finger. He hadn't meant to call Dean and now his natural awkwardness was coming out.

 

"Cas about the other day... I... Look maybe we should meet. You working tomorrow night?"

 

"No," Cas said because he couldn't lie to Dean.

 

"Meet me at the Roadhouse. 8 o'clock."

 

Dean hung up before Cas had a chance to argue. He growled to himself, great somehow he'd ended up on not-a-date with Dean Winchester.

 

* * *

 

Cas showed up at the Roadhouse impossibly tired. He hadn't been able to sleep, instead running off of sugary drinks and Haribo. And now alcohol.

 

Dean wasn't there yet and so Cas had given up and ordered a Jack and Coke.

 

He wasn't sure why. As a rule he hated whiskey. For some reason though he had ordered the disgustingly rich drink and he was sipping it as though it was his lifeline.

 

He was ordering his third as Dean entered the bar, an hour late.

 

"Two," he told the barman holding up two fingers. Then he turned to Dean.

 

"Cas."

 

"Hello Dean. You are late."

 

"Yeah I know. I'm, uh, sorry, I guess."

 

"You guess a lot," Cas said innocently wondering.

 

Dean fidgeted with his hands, unsure whether he should sit or apologise. He did both. "Sorry?"

 

"It's quite alright. I understand that it is a nervous tick of yours."

 

Dean merely blinked, unsure of what to do.

 

"Cas you're only proving my point man."

 

"As I said before, people often find me too strange once they get to know me."

 

Dean reached forward. He appeared to be going for Castiel's hand but changed at the last moment and picked up the JD and Coke Cas had ordered for him. Still he remained leaning forward to get in Cas's sight line.

 

"That's not what I was saying."

 

"I know. But I prefer to give warning."

 

Dean smiled then. "You're odd, but I never said it was a bad thing. I'm weird too."

 

Cas snorted which made Dean sit back, eyes wide, before he burst into laughter.

 

"You don't believe me?"

 

"To be honest no. You seem entirely too normal Dean."

 

Dean laughed all the more. "Even after you found out about the scar on my arm?"

 

Cas feeling bold after his three doubles lifted the sleeve over Dean's arm and traced the scar with his fingertips.

 

"Stupid, but not weird."

 

Dean was silent as Cas fingered the long raised scar. It was messy, healed poorly and still pink even after all the long years.

 

"I always have a bowl of Frosties before I go to bed."

 

Cas blinked. His fingers stilled on Dean's arm.

 

"I pull apart the impala's engine for fun sometimes even though he's running perfectly. I love Philip K. Dick as much as I love Shakespeare. I once marathoned the entirety of XKCD and decided to take a maths course." Dean shrugged at Castiel's look of confusion. "I cannot bring myself to care about football but I've played Irish Hurling before."

 

With that Cas burst into laughter.

 

"Your turn."

 

"I've nothing to tell."

 

"Sure you do. Start with something simple if you like. Favourite food?"

 

Cas thought it over for a moment, so gravely that Dean poked him in the arm.

 

"Favourite food Cas, not which member of your family would you feed to the Kraken."

 

Favourite food was indeed an easier question, only because Cas was pretty sure he couldn't answer ‘the whole bloody lot of them’ to who he'd let a mythical sea monster eat.

 

"Those pink and blue cola bottles Sam buys," he settled on finally.

 

"Oh," Dean said somewhat surprised. "That must be why he made me bring these when he found out I was meeting you." He fished out a small bag of the sickly looking sweets from his pocket and handed them over. Cas's mouth automatically began to water. "Dude you're making sex noises at a packet of sweets."

 

Cas shut his mouth, face flaring.

 

"Favourite book?"

 

"I don't know.”

 

"You must have one you reread more than others."

 

"I don't know. Each offers something truly unique and interesting. It would not be fair."

 

Dean was smiling when he looked up from his drink.

 

"Never change Cas."

 

"I wasn’t planning to."

 

"Good. Because you're great exactly as you are. I don't care if others think you're weird. Their loss."

 

Cas blushed perhaps deeper than he ever had before. He thought maybe his cheeks were lighting the bar at that stage. If he hated praise from Sam then from Dean it was a thousand times more awkward, and more meaningful.

 

Dean was blushing too and it was his only consolation.

 

"I think that bang to your head did more damage than we thought."

 

He leant in to push back the dirty blonde strands and check out the healing sutures.

 

Dean though leant in as well, entirely too close.

 

"I told you before," Dean whispered low and base. His hand moved to Castiel's knee and gripped the muscle tight so Cas jumped. "You lean in.."

 

"And you think I'm going to kiss you?"

 

Cas knew his voice was as deep and raw as Dean's. He tilted his head slightly but he didn't move forward.

 

"Cas?"

 

Castiel sat back. His heart was in his mouth, his breath coming in fits and starts. Instead he picked up his glass and took a long draw.

 

"I won't do this Dean," he said simply, tearing the words from his throat.

 

"Huh... oh... yeah, ok Cas. Sure."

 

Cas finished his drink, staring resolutely at the wall behind the bar. He had to pat himself on the back, he'd never made things quite this awkward, quite this quick. He was improving.

 

"You want another drink?"

 

"No. Thank you Dean but I think I should be going."

 

"Cas." Dean's hand settled on his wrist, not tight enough to be restrictive but a weight to let him know he was still wanted. "I'm sorry. I just... well you know. But I'd like to be friends, even if nothing more is going to happen." Dean let go and thrust his hands into his hair. "Look, what I said about not always being a jerk, I just can't seem to help myself around you. I'm trying though. You've got to give me credit for that at least."

 

Cas settled in his seat once more and ordered another two drinks. He didn't really want to leave Dean. And the guy wasn't really a jerk, that much was clear. He was a good man, kind and warm hearted. Castiel just couldn't take the chance, not right then.

 

* * *

 

Cas woke wondering if he'd been in an accident. His head felt like someone had taken a baseball bat to it after ramming him into a tree. His mouth was dry and tasted like swallowed vomit. His eyes burned, his ears rung and there was a crick in his back that meant he wouldn't be able to stand properly all day.

 

Slowly memories of the night before began to return. Drinking with Dean. Turning down Dean's advances.

 

Cas groaned. Stupid decision. He wanted to kick himself, thought he deserved the splitting headache and the queasy feeling in his stomach.

 

He'd turned Dean away. He deserved to be alone forever more.

 

When he rolled onto his back though there was a body behind him.

 

Dean groaned and turned over himself.

 

For a moment Castiel's mind blanked. All he saw was white. He could not have forgotten that, he'd hate himself for the rest of time if he forgot that.

 

Memories continued to invade his brain. Getting drunk, Dean beside him, telling him stories about his life growing up with Sam, asking questions about Castiel's job and his favourite books, favourite music.

 

The bar had closed around them till the owner, Ellen, chucked them out of their asses.

 

Dean had been just about sober enough to call a cab which dumped them rather unceremoniously at Castiel's door.

 

"Oh shit," Cas groaned remembering what had happened once they got in the apartment.

 

"Morning," Dean said turning back over. He looked as rough as Cas felt. And somehow it made him look even more fuckable.

 

"Dean..." Cas tried to explain but the words wouldn't come.

 

"Cas, seriously, don't mention it. I mean please don't mention it. I'm ready to strangle myself as it is."

 

Cas managed to turn onto his stomach and look down at Dean on his back. He felt nauseous and nervous and embarrassed.

 

"Why Dean?"

 

"Do you remember?"

 

"I think so."

 

Dean wiped a hand over his face. "You’re mad at me?"

 

No. If anything Cas was grateful to the man. It was more than Cas had come to expect of people and he knew Dean had wanted him before.

 

"Just don't ever make me say no to you again, ok?" Dean said with a long blown out breath. "I'm not that strong."

 

Cas blushed and thought it made his one in the bar last night look like a night light against the sun. He hadn't meant to come on to Dean, not after turning him down earlier. Alcohol had loosened him though and he could no longer see why he couldn't have the beautiful man. He wanted him, had wanted him since the first time he saw Dean as he'd opened his car door.

 

Now he felt like he might die of embarrassment. He'd turned Dean down and forced Dean to fend him off when he'd gotten drunk and changed his mind.

 

The only way it could have been worse was if Dean had accepted his advances.

 

"Dean I apologise."

 

"Na Cas it's fine. I was the one feeding you all that whisky."

 

"It was not your fault. I was responsible for my own actions and I wanted to."

 

Dean lifted a finger and ran it down Castiel's arm. He smiled, touched with embarrassment. "Don't sweat it. Have you got work today?"

 

"No. I don't think I could. I still feel as if I may be sick."

 

"Then I suggest we spend the day in bed seen as you don't have a TV."

 

Dean rolled back onto his side, this time facing Cas. His eyes closed, long lashes resting on his cheeks.

 

Cas didn't have the energy to argue.

 

"Though I have to go in to work at 4. The electricity in the workshop's been out for years. They said if I wanted to start it up again I'd have to get it fixed myself so I'm meeting an electrician out there later."

 

"What is it that you do Dean?" Cas asked.

 

Dean didn't answer but huffed out a laugh. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

 

Cas yawned. "Probably not."

 

* * *

 

He was woken by the bed moving. Dean was searching for his socks, having slept in his jeans.

 

"You're leaving?" Cas grumped, the bed now annoyingly cold without the other man’s heat.

 

"Got to meet the electrician and since my car's still at the bar..."

 

Cas sat upright and felt the room spin. "Mine too."

 

"I can swing by after and we'll go pick it up."

 

"No Dean, that would be unfair." Cas thrust his legs out the bed. He was still wearing his jeans too, though at some point he'd wrestled out his shirt and was wearing just a plain white tee. "I'll walk with you now."

 

"You sure?" Dean raised his eyebrows. "You gonna be able to walk in a straight line?"

 

"Yes," Cas argued glaring at Dean with the full force of his hangover.

 

Dean let up, not many people could stand Castiel's pointed looks for long. On the pavement Dean stood close and occasionally their arms touched as they walked, Cas weaving slightly.

 

The sun was up, bright in the sky and Cas decided he hated it. Dean chuckled at his admission.

 

At the Roadhouse Dean looked him over and sighed. "Cas I don't think you should be driving like you are. You're going to total your car before I've even got my hands on her."

 

Cas had to admit that Dean had a point.

 

"Look come with me to meet the electrician, I swear it won't take long. Then we'll get some food, all day breakfast, perfect hangover cure?"

 

Cas was so tired he had to agree. He slumped into the front bench of the impala leaning entirely too close to Dean but not finding himself able to care about anything but the comfort of the other man.

 

"It's a school," Cas said with a frown as they pulled up to meet the electrician.

 

"Very good Cas."

 

Cas followed him up the a small building separate from the main.

 

"You work at a school?"

 

"Nothing gets past you Einstein."

 

Dean opened the door to find the electrician waiting. He greeted the man with a warm handshake and quickly explained what he wanted doing, basically a fully functioning shop for the kids to learn woodwork, metalwork and basic auto shop.

 

"Some kids just aren't cut out for books," he explained to Cas as the electrician looked around. "The schools fail them by not showing them what else they could be good at. There's good money in trades if kids can get into it. Carpentry isn't easy, whatever the suits would make out, the kids need training."

 

"You're a teacher?" Cas said trying not to sound too incredulous.

 

"English mainly, but I teach high school so I have to be a bit of a jack of all trades. The school flat out refused to hire a separate teacher for shop so I volunteered. I guess we're lucky they've even agreed to offer the subject again."

 

Cas smiled. It was nice to see Dean proud and dedicated. It was nice there was something other than Sam to keep Dean here. Then maybe...

 

He shut the thought off as ridiculous. Especially after the night before. Except Cas did want it, he had thought about it, hoped for it.

 

But he couldn't. Not with the mess he was in. He couldn't drag Dean into that.

 

"You ok Cas?"

 

"Hmm yes. I was just thinking. You seem passionate about this."

 

"I love my job. I've always been great with kids and they're so responsive you know? You tell them they can do great things and they’ll blow your expectations away. You teach them how to read and they'll write if that makes sense."

 

"It makes sense," Cas agreed with a nod.

 

"Which is why I want to give them this. It's just one class but if it can help a few of them then great, that's a few more kids with marketable skills coming out the grindhouse."

 

Dean flipped a switch absently. Cas smiled at his passion and looked down at his hands twirling in his lap. He wanted to go to Dean, wanted to take his hand and lean in to see what he'd do.

 

There was a loud bang, a thunderclap and the sound of a fallen body. Cas was up and moving immediately only to be grabbed by the electrician.

 

"Live wire," the man shouted pulling him away from where Dean was collapsed on the floor. "This place is a death trap. I need to shut down the power."

 

He couldn't keep hold of Cas and find the fuse box at the same time so was forced to let the fighting man go. Instantly Cas disregarded everything he'd said and ran for Dean.

 

There were no wires around him, he'd been blown back from the wall. Not that Cas would have noticed anyway.

 

He checked Dean over, his hand was burnt from the shock, he wasn't breathing.

 

Cas hiccupped a cry, shaking so badly he could barely remember what he was supposed to be doing.

 

"Dean? Dean?" He grabbed the man's shoulder, shook him. "Dean?"

 

Body nothing more than jelly he turned his attention to Dean's chest. His hands slipped as he attempted to set them on his breastbone, knowing in an innate, drilled in way that he had to start compressions.

 

But Dean was slack beneath him, not breathing and Cas felt like he was going to pieces.

 

He managed a compression, then two. Hating himself for being so weak he gritted his teeth and forced himself to be a professional. He forced Dean from his mind, pretending he was any other patient.

 

It didn't work well but he was able to complete a round as the electrician ran back in. "I called for an ambulance. What can I do?"

 

"Chest..." Cas managed shakily drawing back Dean's head and breathing for him.

 

The electrician tried his best and Cas found he was able to direct the man as he shook, useless himself.

 

He bent over for the rescue breaths, stroking Dean's hair back and begging for help in his mind.

 

"Please be ok. You have to be ok."

 

It seemed like hours before the paramedics arrived. The electrician fell back immediately but Cas couldn't move. He remained with one hand on Dean's forehead till the paramedic shoved him back bodily and the electrician held him in place.

 

"Shockable rhythm, stand clear."

 

Cas whimpered as the machine whined and let out it's shock. The paramedics were quick to get back onto compressions. They only stopped when Dean coughed out a breath before immediately falling into unconsciousness.

 

Cas fell forward only held up by the arms around him. He could feel tears on his cheeks, he was ready to sob.

 

Stabilised Dean was loaded onto a stretcher and transferred to the ambulance where Cas climbed straight in after him.

 

* * *

 

Dean woke groggy and confused. There was a pain in his chest as well as his right hand. Opening sleep crusted eyes he saw magnolia walls, rough white sheets and a sleeping Castiel.

 

He lifted his hand to stroke through the man’s hair and found he was attached to an IV line.

 

"Oh shit," he breathed as he felt another line in his neck and was that, a catheter, fuck you very much. "Cas?" He shifted a heavy leg when the man didn't wake, causing Cas to rock.

 

The nurse opened his eyes obviously confused as to where he was. He started when he saw Dean though and threw himself at the other man.

 

Dean bore it, tightening his arms around his friend.

 

"It's ok Cas, it's ok. I'm alive."

 

Cas pulled away and punched him on the shoulder. Dean scowled and rubbed the new sore spot with his good hand.

 

"Ouch Cas, what was that for?"

 

"You got electrocuted!"

 

"Yeah but not on purpose! I didn't do it to piss you off."

 

Cas hugged him again, burying his head into Dean's chest.

 

"Hey it's ok," Dean tried rubbing circles on his back. "Come on Cas. It's ok. I'm gonna be fine. It's not like I don't do stupid things like this all the time."

 

Cas set him with a glare that Dean was surprised didn't pack the same punch as the electric shock had.

 

"You dare!"

 

"Yeah, you're right Cas. I won't. I wouldn't. I wouldn't do that to you."

 

Another punch. "To me? To yourself. Stupid."

 

He sat back looking more pissed off than Dean had ever seen anybody look before. Cas did an amazing bitch face, beating out even Sammy.

 

"Does Sam know?"

 

"Of course. You've been out for three days. Dean they weren’t sure you were going to pull through. You had no output for seven minutes."

 

Dean could only blink and shrug.

 

"I'm here Cas."

 

"Yes, but..." Cas let the sentence run off.

 

"I know. I'm sorry I scared you. Come here."

 

Ignoring the pain in his chest, the rawness of his bandaged hand Dean pulled Cas back down to him and took a deep breath. He couldn't put into words how thankful he was that he was there, alive and with Cas bitching into his chest.

 

* * *

 

It took another two weeks for Dean to be discharged. They'd removed the bandages for him to see and Dean had been amazed at the scarring up his arm that branched and divided. His hand was the worst, the skin burned away at his fingertips.

 

The doctors told him it could have been worse and from the flinch Castiel gave Dean believed them. He let Cas dress his hand daily, coating it in cream and using a strange bag like dressing to allow the fingers movement. He appreciated the nurse most at those times. He appreciated him least when he sat and made Dean do his finger stretches so the skin wouldn't heal tight. Dean grumbled but Cas was nothing but thorough.

 

Two weeks later he was glad for his friend when the doctors told him he'd made a remarkable recovery and should have minimal scarring. Cas grinned and Dean wanted nothing more than to kiss him. He held back, remembering Cas's refusal in the bar. It seemed so long ago now, a lifetime before.

 

Sammy came to pick him up. Cas was working but had promised to visit later once Dean was home.

 

"You feeling ok?"

 

"Just tired. I'm always tired. Docs say it will take a while but I'm getting there. The weird tics in my arm have stopped at least thank god."

 

"Dean you're doing remarkably, you should be proud of yourself."

 

"I'm proud of Cas. Guy just wouldn't let up. I wouldn't be walking out here now without him."

 

"So, um, how are you guys doing? I haven't seen him as much lately."

 

Dean shrugged. "He's spent a lot of time in the ICU with me. Not doing so much overtime, thank god. Guy needs to take a break every once in a while."

 

"By looking after your lazy ass?"

 

Sam grinned and Dean returned the smile thinking it was good to be this at ease with his brother again. Cas had been right, they just needed time. Time and a near death experience.

 

"Yeah, well. His choice."

 

"So I mean really, how are you two? Just friends still?"

 

Dean visibly sagged. He shrugged again but this time there was less energy behind it. He looked like a man getting out of hospital after two weeks in the ICU.

 

"Just friends. It's driving me crazy man like you wouldn't believe. He comes, he stays all day, we get on great and then he leaves." Dean threw his hands up in the air in disbelief. "Who does all that for just a friend. Especially a friend who's point blank told him that he's interested."

 

"Cas is..."

 

"Don't you dare say a special little snowflake."

 

"What?"

 

"Oh one of the nurses, Missouri, she must have seen me, you know, watching him."

 

"Oh yeah that way you do when you're practically licking your lips."

 

Dean growled and shot a bitchface worthy of his brother and his new friend. "Anyway she kinda got the wrong idea."

 

"The right idea."

 

"Fine, the right idea. Asked why we weren't together and I well, I told her, everything."

 

"Wow Dean."

 

"It was the drugs I'm sure of it. She talked to her friend, who spoke to another nurse and soon they had all the information she could get on Cas and called him a special little snowflake."

 

"Why?"

 

"I don't know. Nurses only or something. Said I'd have to ask him."

 

Sam shrugged. "Then why don't you."

 

Dean scoffed at his brother but Sam was serious.

 

"Na man I mean it. You asked to kiss him what 2 weeks ago now, you'd only known him what a week, two then? Who says he even still feels the same way. He knows you better now and I know Cas, he doesn't do things lightly." Sam laid a softening hand on Dean's shoulder. "To be honest I thought you'd get along great but your infatuation would wear off pretty quick if Cas wasn't up for it. I didn't think you'd get yourself in this deep with no return."

 

Dean could only glare at his little brother, looking up because while Sam would always be little he was three inches taller than Dean now.

 

"Thanks a lot. You couldn't have just left me happy and alone?"

 

"No can do bro. Come on let’s get you cleaned up for when Cas comes later.

 

* * *

 

Dean had to admit it was bliss to get home and take a shower, his bandaged hand carefully wrapped in a plastic bag so it wouldn't get wet. He shaved and brushed his teeth using his own toothbrush and toothpaste that tasted like mint and not baking powder.

 

 

He dried using soft, fluffy towels and dressed not in a hospital gown but in comfy sweats and a washed-soft old Stanford t-shirt that was really Sam's but Dean had kept since his brother graduated.

 

He ordered takeout even though he knew both Sam and Cas would disapprove.

 

He was asleep curled up on the comfy couch when the doorbell rang. Sam had gone out, not even bothering to make up an excuse, so Dean slunk through the hallway to the front door.

 

Cas was waiting on the doorstep and for the first time ever he wasn't wearing scrubs. Instead he was wearing joggers and an old sweater with some bar logo on it.

 

"You were asleep."

 

"Yeah."

 

"I should come back tomorrow."

 

Dean reached for Castiel's wrist. "Look I'm going to be sleeping a lot for the moment. Pretty much any time I don't have someone to keep me entertained. Come on in."

 

Cas took a step but he seemed reluctant. The guy was too conscientious for his own good.

 

"So um, no scrubs tonight?" Dean asked standing aside should Cas decide to come in.

 

"No. I thought perhaps we would sit around and watch some television."

 

"Sounds good."

 

Cas finally entered the house. Dean was almost mourning the scrubs until Cas went ahead of him, no the guys ass still won out. Dean wondered if the doctor’s order of no strenuous activity covered the things that came to mind. Probably.

 

Cas flipped the pizza lid open and frowned at the left overs.

 

"Help yourself."

 

"No... thank you."

 

Dean laughed at how Cas's thank you was tagged on the end, the vague look of disgust on his face. It wore him out, even that small show of emotion so he settled himself on the couch and closed his eyes.

 

There was no chance for rest though as Cas climbed onto the sofa beside him. It was a large couch, it had to be big enough to fit Sam on, but still Cas seemed too close. He was distracting in every possible way.

 

Dean wiggled uncomfortably and stretched his burned fingers.

 

“Is it painful?” the deep voice to his left asked.

 

“Huh? No, not so much. I just… Shit I’m tired is all.”

 

He considered maybe asking Cas to leave. It would be more restful. Right then he was on edge, constantly wanting to look over, constantly wanting to lean on the man. He felt his heart beating faster than usual, the small twitches in his muscles when he just couldn’t sit still any longer.

 

Cas had noticed he was acting strangely. The nurse didn’t attempt to hide the way he was watching him, assessing what Dean needed. It just made it worse.

 

“Maybe you should get some sleep.”

 

“Na Cas I told you…”

 

Cas tugged on his arm, bringing him down to rest in his lap. Dean was surprised for exactly three seconds before deciding that he wasn’t going to argue with the gorgeous man whose lap he was sprawled across. He stretched out before curling up like a kitten, hugging Castiel’s legs as a warm hand ran through his hair.

 

He must have slept as when Cas woke him it was late the next morning.

 

“I’m sorry, that can’t have been comfortable all night long,” Dean said moving aside so Cas could stand.

 

Cas stretched as he stood his back popping in a way that made Dean smirk. “It was not unpleasant.”

 

He reached for his jacket and Dean couldn’t help the rising panic. “You’re going?”

 

“I have an appointment.”

 

“Oh. Yeah sure. What for?” He knew he was being nosy but he didn’t care, he wanted to know everything about Cas, wanted the other man to feel free enough to answer him.

 

“I’ll explain when I get back.” Cas reached out a hand, pulling Dean to his feet before steering him to his bedroom. “Sleep now and I’ll get takeout later.”

 

“Hmm,” Dean grumbled. He couldn’t be happy Cas was leaving but the promise he’d be back made things easier.

 

* * *

 

Dean slept and he waited. Sam had left his phone at home by accident and Dean was so annoyed at life and being sick that he found Jess’s number and asked her to meet him (i.e. Sam) at The Jade Dragon later that night.

 

Sam blew his fuse when Dean told him that he had a date that night. He swore and rushed to shower. Dean knew he was using his post-hospitalization state against Sam but he’d thank him for it in the end. Or so Dean hoped.

 

Sam gone, wearing a suit that always looked out of place on his long body, Dean waited. He didn’t bother eating as Cas had said he’d bring something.

 

When 9 o’clock had passed though Dean realised the nurse might not be coming. He tried not to be too disappointed. After all Cas had rejected any further relationship before. To Cas Dean was just a friend, one he’d felt guilty over when he’d been injured. Dean dropped to the sofa and wondered how bad it really was to mix painkillers and alcohol.

 

The door opened at 9.30pm without a knock. Sam’s date couldn’t have gone well.

 

Dean was curled up on the sofa feeling sorry for himself. He knew it’d only be worse if Sam was depressed about Jess so he hid his head under a pillow.

 

There was the smell of Indian food coming from the kitchen though, spicy and rich.

 

Dean pushed himself up. Sam was louder than that.

 

“Cas?”

 

The nurse was laying out boxes on the counter, all kinds of mains and rices, naan bread, bhajis and samosas. He handed Dean a poppadom followed by three different kind of dips.

 

“Hey?”

 

“Hello Dean.”

 

Dean could sense something strange going on. Cas never went all out like that, normally he scraped together a meal from whatever was still hanging around in his fridge. The Indian was a feast.

 

“This is… amazing Cas.”

 

“I wanted to celebrate.”

 

Dean raised an eyebrow completely in the dark about what his friend was talking about. Cas continued to take the lids off the boxes, handed Dean a fork.

 

“Celebrate what Cas?” Dean asked moving round so he was beside Cas leaning back against the bench as Cas licked the sauce of the curry from his fingers.

 

“Freedom.”

 

Blue eyes met Dean’s.  A small smile came to his lips and it was as if a weight had been lifted from the man. A warm hand threaded into Dean’s, the fingers still slightly wet from where Cas had licked his fingers. Dean swallowed at the thought and forced himself to remain still so Cas could continue.

 

“I had a meeting with my lawyer today. For the past seven years I have been making a monthly payment for my father’s debts so he remains out of prison.”

 

Dean swallowed. He had thought Cas’s father dead the way he spoke (or didn’t) of him.

 

“As of now those payments have ceased.”

 

“Cas… what?”

 

“He abandoned me when I was fifteen, leaving me with nothing. I spent a year in foster care before finding a job and an apartment of my own. I worked hard and put myself through college which was when he made contact again.”

 

Dean squeezed Castiel’s fingers tight hoping that the small show of strength showed the man exactly how he felt.

 

“He wanted to change,” Cas continued voice low, almost mechanical. He was telling his story as if he were reading from a script, distant. “I agreed to help him. Support him.” Cas squeezed his eyes tight and took a deep breath his hand shaking where Dean held him tight. “I did not want for him to go to prison, he was my father, yet he never changed, he never stopped.”

 

“You shouldn’t have to put up with that.”

 

“I gave him a chance. No more. I realised that I could not put my own life on hold so that he could continue to abuse me.”

 

Castiel’s hand moved to take Dean’s other so they were facing each other, linked.

 

“I will not work every hour I get. I will not refuse dates because I am worried who will pay for his next drink. I will not drag you into his mess.”

 

“Me?”

 

“You… have made me reassess much of what I thought important in my life.”

 

Cas leans in slightly and Dean is sure that he does it on purpose. Still he has to be sure.

 

“Cas? Do you…?”

 

He got his answer in the form of Castiel leaning in further and meeting his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've read enough (and watched enough TV and music videos (which is where this fic started – thank you Lady Antebellum)) where CPR is completely messed up. I hope I've managed to write this as real as possible. It's all based on my own experience and training but who knows how it translates to the page.
> 
> Crap CPR is a massive bug bear of mine - mainly because it's not that hard! (Well it’s damn hard but the basics aren’t.) Seriously, 30:2, 100-120bpm, depth of 5cm-ish. Do it until help arrives.
> 
> Why the hell TV gets it so wrong I have no idea. 2 minutes research!
> 
> You can't shock a flat line. Also flat lines aren't flat flat, that's when the leads are disconnected. I laugh every time the TV shows a detached monitor as if it's a flatline. You need some electrical activity to shock back into rhythm.
> 
> BTW I-gels are supraglotic airways.
> 
> *
> 
> Smutty apology: I must admit I didn't even think about putting any sex in this, it just never seemed to come up and I'm not one to force sex into sex-less stories. I hope the romance makes up for it, because I thought that they were adorable (well I would wouldn’t I?)
> 
> I will think about writing a short smutty follow up because I love this version of Cas and it seems a shame he didn't get some on page.
> 
> *
> 
> Thanks to Lady Antebellum for their shocking video for Hello World which is where this started


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